


A Christmas Tale

by Owlwithafringe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel in the Bunker, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Shopping, Christmas Tree, First Kiss, Human Castiel, M/M, Mistletoe, Slow Build, Snow Angels, Snow Day, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2811995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlwithafringe/pseuds/Owlwithafringe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has never experienced Christmas before - who better than the Winchester's to show him how it's done? Except they've never really had Christmas either. </p><p>So join Team Free Will as they struggle their way through Christmas shopping, crappy Christmas sweaters and turkey cooking.</p><p>Seriously - the Apocalypse was probably easier than this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Winchester’s had never really properly celebrated Christmas before. They’d tried a couple of times – always half-assed attempts, and that one time Sam tried to create Christmas in that motel room. That had been a good one.

They’d just never been stable enough for it. John had always dragged them from motel to motel never even bothering about Christmas, just focusing on his mission of hunting down Azazel. And Bobby, bless his soul, he’d tried his best for his boys, but honestly as time went on Sam and Dean just kind of lost interest in ever really trying – it just seemed like a holiday that corporations used to make money off of unsuspecting families. 

Castiel had never celebrated Christmas either – why should he? He had been around for the original. And Angels had long since stopped celebrating the birth of their human half-brother. Even less so now that they had all become human. After God left, it just seemed to lose all significance.

So when December rolled around, the Winchester’s and their fallen angel carried on as usual - finding cases and hunting down the monster, almost unaware that the rest of the country were starting up their Christmas festivities. 

It was five days before Christmas and the three men had retired to the bunker for a well-earned break. Dean had disappeared into the depths of the bunker, Sam suspected to the garage to work on the Impala. She had been a little neglected lately. 

Sam was sitting in his favourite research spot, one of the desks in the front library by the entrance. The overhead lights had been switched off, and the desk lamps, on. A warm glow was projected around the room by the art deco lamps, making the bunker feel a little less like a war cabinet, and more like a home. 

He was sat on his laptop, with old files scattered around him as he carried on the long, self-assigned task of archiving the Men of Letter’s files. The gentle tapping of its keys made little noise over the drone of the television that Dean had installed in the room.

Castiel was sitting on one of the couches Dean had also put through into front library with the tv (Dean’s argument for this development was that if he was going to spend so much time through there then he needed some comfy seats and some entertainment that didn’t come from a bookshelf) on, playing a b-rated Christmas film. Castiel’s head was titled curiously as he observed the characters interaction in confusion. He glanced at Sam, hunched over the desk, and then back to the film.

“Sam?”

Sam raised his head from his work to look over at Cas. “Yeah?”

“This film is wholly inaccurate, I do not understand it.”

Sam stood up and walked over to the couch, leaning against the back of it to get a better view of the television. “What are you watching?”

“The Nativity Story.” Cas replied, eyes still glued critically to the screen.

“The Nativity.. Jesus man, is it already Christmas?” Sam asked incredously.

Castiel nodded. “Yes it is. I noticed that you and Dean do not celebrate it though?”

Sam huffed a little laugh and raked an awkward hand through his hair. “We.. just never really get around to it anymore. And I guess it’s a little hard too after the apocalypse, yannoe? 

Castiel turned to face Sam. “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry that my brethren ruined it for you.”

“It’s ok.” Sam shrugged sadly. “We never really celebrated it before anyway.”

“Well, we could..” Castiel paused and then turned away, blushing slightly and began to fiddle with some loose threads on the couch pillow. “No, it’s a ridiculous idea.”

Sam nudged Cas’ shoulder with his elbow to get his attention. “Could do what?”

“It’s a silly idea but, well, I’ve never actually done Christmas before and certainly never as a human and I suppose I thought..” Castiel trailed off.

“You thought we could do Christmas this year?” Sam finished with a small smile.

Castiel nodded, a blush still staining his cheeks. It seemed like such a stupid, simple request, but Sam found himself liking the idea the more he thought about it. It would be nice to do it. They had an actual home now and after the year they’d had, they certainly deserved a bit of fun. And who better than the Winchester’s to give Cas his first Christmas? 

Sam found himself nodding in agreement, a rare grin lighting up his face. “I don’t see why not. I mean I’d have to ask Dean first but I think that’s a great idea Cas.”

Cas smiled in return, with an emotion in his eyes that Sam hadn’t seen in Cas for a while – pure, unadulterated happiness. If the thought of Christmas made Cas so happy, then Sam be damned, he was going to make sure they do whether or not Dean agreed with it. Cas deserved a little happiness after everything, and honestly Sam felt kind of excited; It would be his first proper Christmas too.

The two turned back to the television in silence, until Sam couldn’t keep his question in any longer.

“So, er.. what’s actually inaccurate with the film?”

“Well for starters, Mary certainly did not react like that when she was told of her pregnancy.” Castiel informed Sam, his face impassive other than small twitch of lips, as if he was trying to hold back a laugh or smile. That’s when it clicked.

“Oh yeah, it would have been Gabriel that told her, right?” Sam grinned.

Castiel nodded with a small grimace.

“I bet that would have been an interesting experience.” Sam laughed, imagining the numerous bizarre scenarios that Gabriel could unfolded to tell Mary about Jesus. 

“She was.. startled, to say the least. Even when he was preforming his duties as an Archangel, he was still a bit unconventional.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Sam stood up straight again, the couch no longer supporting his tall frame. “I’ll go tell Dean our plan. Maybe we could go Christmas shopping tomorrow?”

“That would be good.” Castiel agreed. Sam turned to leave, intending on hunting down his brother when Castiel’s deep voice stopped him. “And, thank you Sam.”

Sam turned around, smiling softly. “It’s no problem at all Cas.” Before turning back around, and leaving Cas to contently pick out all the incorrect bits of the film.


	2. Chapter 2

Surprisingly for Sam, it took little persuasion to get Dean to agree to Christmas. Dean had been a little hesitant at first but then Sam pulled the ‘Cas-just-lost-everything-he-ever-knew-and-we’re-the-only-family-he-has-left-and-we-owe-him’ card mixed with the puppy dog eyes and Dean never even stood a chance of objection. 

The more they discussed it, the more Sam could see how up for the idea Dean was actually getting, no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind that masculine façade of indifference. A quick agreement determined that they would go shopping for Christmas presents for one another the next day, but as Dean so eloquently put it, ‘they weren’t gonna do none of that Hallmark shit’.

That had been yesterday and today was the twenty-first. Sam was generally an early riser – always had been. Probably a left over habit of John’s strict army-style routine, but Sam enjoyed getting up early. He liked seeing the sun rise, he liked going for an early-morning run, he liked the peace and quiet before everyone woke up and started making noise – however, he’d still been tucked up in bed quite happily sleeping when Castiel had begun hammering on his door yelling for him to get up, like he was seven years old and it was already Christmas day. This was the very same Cas who could no longer function in a morning without the strongest, blackest cup of coffee that had ever had the misfortune to be drunken by a human ever.

Sam opened his door, bed hair sticking in all directions and squinting at the hallway light to see Cas had already moved onto Dean’s door and had started to do the same to him. He leant groggily on his doorframe to watch Dean’s door whip open and his brother’s head pop out with a gun in his hand, eyes darting sleepily around for the emergency. 

However any imaginary monster wouldn’t have been intimidated very much by the similar bed head that Dean was also sporting and his fluffy slippers. A quick glance around soon revealed that it was only Cas and not a monster out to kill or eat or something equally as annoying, them and dropped the weapon down to a less defensive position. “Cas?” His voice was woolly from sleep and muffled with confusion. 

“You must get ready. We have to go shopping before everyone else gets there.” Castiel replied urgently, staring unblinkingly into Dean’s eyes. Dean shifted uncomfortably under the pinning gaze. 

Sam yawned and stretched out, letting his fingers graze the top of the door frame before speaking up and breaking the two men’s eyes contact. It was too early to deal with their cluelessness. “The shops won’t even be open yet Cas.”

Dean grunted in agreement, shuffling back into his room, a grumpy pout on his face from his sleep being disturbed. “Go back to bed dude. Come back when the suns actually up.” 

Cas opened his mouth to respond, but Dean slammed the door shut leaving Cas looking vaguely affronted. He turned his head towards Sam as if to ask his opinion. If he thought Sam was going to tell him that Dean was being completely unreasonable then he could think again. Rude, perhaps (though being woken up like that is also pretty rude), but unreasonable? Not really. Sam shrugged apologetically, before straightening up again. “We’ll go a bit later, just let us get a couple more hours.” 

Sam didn’t wait for Cas to reply, and shut his door too (it seemed rude, door slams were a Winchester trait) and crawled back into bed, and letting the warm duvet and cushions welcome him back into a blissful sleep.

A few hours later Sam awoke. It was perhaps a little later than he would normally would wake but Sam doubted anyone else would be awake to notice. He got up, his bare feet padding down the hallway cringing against the cold tiles as he made his way to the bathroom for a shower.

He twisted the shower tap and let the warm water stream down, watching as steam began to rise. Dean was right about the water pressure. It really was magnificent. For a bunch of dudes from the forties, they sure knew how to live in luxury.

He soaped up his hair, and stood underneath the water, letting the water flow down his body creating little rivulets. The white, soapy suds gathered by the plughole, circling around it like a little whirlpool before disappearing down the drain.

He briefly considered what he was going to buy Dean and Cas for presents. He felt it was almost mandatory to buy Cas some plaid – truly initiate and welcome him into the Winchester fold. Dean however would be trickier. He wanted to get him something really special, but what do you get for a brother who has never had a selfish want in his entire life. 

Either way he looked forward to seeing their faces when they opened their presents under the- ah. That was a thought. Would they have a tree? He hoped so. They’d have to decorate it of course. The Men of Letters might have some tinsel stored somewhere. And what would they have as a tree topper? An angel seemed amusing to Sam, but Cas might not see it the same way. 

With his hair now washed, he stepped out of the cubicle and into the cold air of the room. He shivered, steam now coming off him as well as the shower and fogging up the mirror, so only the obscure outline of him could be seen. He wrapped the towel around his waist and began to dry off. 

A couple of minutes later, he stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed and a little damp and headed towards the kitchen to go and make a fruit smoothie or porridge or something for breakfast. He walked into the kitchen and paused mid-step.

Cas was sitting at the table, hands encasing a mug of coffee with a glare as bitter as his coffee. Sam starting walking again towards the worktops to prepare something, glancing at Cas as he went. Dark purple circles lined under his eyes. He debated whether or not to say anything to the fallen angel and possibly risk having the coffee thrown over him. He decided to take the risk. “Did you go back to bed at all?”

Cas glared silently at him over the rim of his mug. Well, ok then. 

Sam reached up into the cupboard and pulled out the oats and the saucepan and went over to the stove, stopping quickly by the sink to pour in some water. He turned the knob and watched as the gas ignited, a bluish flame dancing beneath the pan. 

Dean walked in, his ‘dead guy’ robe wrapped tightly around him and his slippers sliding along the kitchen floor tiles. He nodded in greeting towards Sam, whilst fishing around in the cupboard for a mug. He flicked the switch for the kettle and turned around and leant his back against the work surface. He peered over at Cas before looking at Sam who was stirring his porridge, giving him a look as if to say ‘what’s his problem?’ Sam shrugged in return before taking his porridge off the hob and putting it into a bowel and sticking it into the microwave.

Dean glanced back at Cas. “What took a shit in your cornflakes?” 

Cas scowled at Dean, almost daring him to back down. Dean of course lacks the basic survival instinct that everyone else seems to have and stared right on back, even quirking an audacious eyebrow at the lack of response. Cas then let out a heavy sigh, as if simply being in the company of Dean was such a physical hardship to him and trudged over to where the radio in the corner of the room was, and switched it on. The volume was low and the voice talking was muffled but Cas quickly turned it up, before standing with his arms crossed as Sam and Dean paused to listen to the presenter. 

_“..And last night Kansas, namely Lebanon and the surrounding area was hit by a freak snow-storm over night, blanketing towns in snow and blocking some roads – many business’ have closed down for the day and police are advising people to stay home due to dangerous roads, and enjoy some time with their families. The snow is expected to have melted somewhat by tomorrow however.."_

Cas switched off the radio abruptly before marching back to his seat and sitting down in the same position as before and stared off into space. 

The brothers glanced uneasily at each other before turning back to their retrospective tasks. The microwave beeped to signal the porridge was finished and Sam pulled out the bowel, picking up a spoon and a jar of honey on his way to sit down at the table. The kettle had boiled, screeching as Dean pulled it off the stand and poured the boiling water into his mug. He quickly added a splash of milk and stirred, before joining Sam at the table.

The three sat together quietly, Cas perched on his seat silently, Sam eating his porridge and Dean drinking his coffee. The silence was uncomfortable, Castiel’s anger being directed at the Winchester’s and apparently blaming them for not being able to go out. Dean couldn’t stand the sullen hush and the fuming expression on Cas’ face so he reluctantly broke the silence. “I’m sorry man – we couldn’t know that would happen. But you heard the radio guy – only some places are shut. We could go and check out the roads after breakfast, see how bad they are? We might be totally fine.”

Cas huffed, but looked a little less murderous and little more hopeful. Encouraged by this reaction Dean turned to Sam, who was sucking the spoon salaciously for honey. “What do you say Sammy?” 

The younger man blushed at being caught, but nodded in agreement. “Yeah, sounds like a great idea. Right Cas?”

The age-old man shrugged, a little like a petulant teenager. Dean briefly wondered where he’d picked up such a human mannerism, but then pegged it as something he’d picked up from Sam. Petulant teenager – definitely from Sam.

The three finished their individual breakfasts before heading back to their rooms to get properly dressed for the winter weather that awaited them outside the front doors. They met back in the front area more appropriately clothed.

Sam had thrown on his usual coat, but was wearing a sweater underneath. He had a woollen beanie, which Dean thought looked totally stupid but Sam rather liked, on his head and had some waterproof gloves over his hands. Dean had worn one of his warmer coats and also had some gloves to protect his hands from the cold. They looked like what most people did when it was snowing and had to go out – moderately warm and comfortable but ultimately quite stylish – not that the Winchester’s could probably ever be described as style icons unless you were talking to lumberjacks or hicks. Or possibly other hunters.

However they looked infinitely more normal than Cas did. Castiel had gone all out – it was hard to tell how many layers he was wearing underneath his trench coat, but it wouldn’t be too far out to guess it was quite a few. He had a blue (a blue that matched his eyes, Dean noted), wool scarf wrapped around his neck, sort of like a snake. He had matching mittens, yeah freaking mittens, tucked into his pockets. On his head was a large knitted hat with a bobble perched on the end. Dean didn’t ever recall buying it for him on one of their thrift shop raids, so Cas must of found it in an Old Man of Letter’s drawers somewhere. Cas gave a warm smile to his friends. It seemed he had perked up at the thought of going out.

Sam and Dean grinned at Cas’ ensemble, Dean huffing a small laugh. “You warm enough there man?”

Castiel beamed and looked down proudly at his clothing. “Yes, I believe so. I think this should be sufficient enough to protect me from the weather.”

Dean outright chuckled at that – it was nice to know that even when Cas was a human, he still didn’t always catch sarcasm. He patted his shoulder in amusement before addressing both men. “So then. Shall we ladies?” He gestured towards the front door. 

Team Free Will walked out of the door and curiously into the outside to inspect the damage of last night.

The ground was completely encompassed by white, the snow left untouched by any interference of humans or animals. The tree tops were coated by snow like on a cheesy Christmas card and icicles hung from the handrail that led out of the bunker. The air held a cold bite to it and as the men ventured out the snow crunched underneath their boots. 

A light sprinkle of snow was still falling, quickly landing onto the troop of humans, indifferent as to whether it had landed on the ground or not, however the sky was blue and mostly clear. Some snowflakes had caught onto Cas’ eyelashes as he gazed up in wonderment, his lips parted slightly. Dean found himself distracted by the snowflakes, watching as they melted resulting in Cas fluttering his eyes shut back and forth to get rid of the excess water. 

Grudgingly, Dean ripped his gaze away from the former angel to inspect the landscape in a much more critical way than Sam and Cas were, however a quick glance told him all he needed to know.

He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry man. Baby’s good. But Baby ain’t that good. I can’t take her out when the roads like this.” Cas’ face immediately fell, and it was like someone had kicked Dean in the chest. Only more painful. Eager to make up to Cas, he quickly added, “We can always go tomorrow. Give us longer to think of better ideas for presents, eh?”

Castiel nodded despondently, trying hard not seem disappointed but failing rather miserably at it. Dean clapped a hand onto Cas’ shoulder to attract his gaze to meet his. The sorrowful blue eyes blinked at Dean. 

“It doesn’t have to be a day wasted though man. There’s plenty to do when it’s snowing. You guys didn’t get snow days in Heaven?” Dean asked with a grin. Castiel tilted his head in confusion, not sure if Dean was joking or not. He decided it would be best to inform him correctly in case he wasn’t joking.

“No. It does not snow in Heaven. That is purely a phenomena that occurs on the Earth.” He turned his gaze back up to the falling snow. Even though Dean had been joking, it only occurred to him then that this could have been the first time that Cas had ever actually seen snow up close, the first time he’d felt it melt on his skin. The former angel turned his head abruptly towards Dean, still keeping it’s tipped up angle though it was faced towards the hunter’s. “What is it that you do on a ‘snow day’? 

Dean could practically feel the inverted commas even though Cas for once hadn’t made the motions with his fingers. He grinned, getting prepared to tell Cas about everything they could do with snow, imagining the possibilities of how the day could work out. “Well –“ 

The sentence was cut off though, as a small ball of compacted snow crashed into the side of Dean’s face, almost completely taking him out due to sheer unexpectedness of it. “Son of a bitch!” He muttered. His hand reached up to the side of his face, trying to brush away all the snow that had stuck onto him. He glanced up to see Cas watching him with concern. In the background he could hear Sam cheering and whooping with delight. 

Dean straightened up and turned around, spotting Sam a little way off, nearly falling over with laughter. He hadn’t even realised that he’d snuck off, the little bitch. If that’s the way Sam wanted to play it, then let there be war.

Dean reached down and scooped up some snow and began patting it into a ball shape. His gloves made it a little hard to get a good grip on the ball however it kept his hands from becoming red raw, something which would probably sucked more than the time they accidently started the apocalypse. 

Satisfied with the shape, he pulled his arm back taking careful precision to aim perfectly at his target. He was ready to engage with the target but before he fired, he turned to Cas. “One thing we like to do on Snow Days, are a little thing called Snowball Fights.” He winked, before turning back towards Sam, and throwing.

The snowball flew in a perfect arch, catapulting towards Sam, the poor boy not even spotting it before it was too late. The snowball hit him square in the face, the force of the throw sending him flying backwards, landing him on his back in the snow in a daze.

It was Dean’s turn to celebrate. He laughed victoriously as Sam sat up, snow coating his hair like a crown. Sam quickly grabbed some snow to make a quick ball before standing up and launching it Dean with a warrior’s cry and then scrambling off to find cover.

Dean pulled Cas by his trench coat out of the incoming snowball with a laugh. “You and me buddy, we’re gonna be a team.”

“What is the object of the game?” Castiel asked as he watched Dean hide behind a tree, occasionally peering out to locate Sam. Dean glanced towards Cas to reply before double taking to realise that Cas standing in the open like that would blow their cover. He reached forward and grabbed Cas again, planting him neatly by his side so they were both covered by the tree. 

“You throw snowballs at the other team. That’s pretty much it.” Dean replied distractedly. He couldn’t see the enemy anywhere. There weren’t even any obvious footprints in the snow. He quickly made a snowball so he had one in hand in case of any surprise attacks. 

“How is a victor declared?” 

“When the other team gives up.” Dean answered, staring at a space between two trees. Easily defendable, no surprise attacks from the back, plenty of snow. Perfect. “C’mon.” Dean gestured at Cas to follow him. “I found the perfect place to build our fort.” Dean began to move towards the spot, watching out for attacks, with the grace of a perfectly trained soldier on a mission. Cas followed behind Dean, however more in the fashion of a confused puppy following its owner.

Once they’d reached the spot Dean began to compact snow together, starting the base for the fort. Cas watched as Dean patted the snow into shape. Dean felt the man’s watchful eye on him and he looked up to speak. “Are you gonna stand there all day or are you gonna help me?”

“My apologies,” Cas replied unapologetically. He knelt down beside Dean, shivering as he felt the coldness of the snow against his trousers. “What do I do?”

“Just pack the snow on top of this like this,” Dean demonstrated adding the snow, “And make it high enough that we can hide behind it in case of attacks.”

Castiel nodded, and began to follow Dean’s instructions. With Cas busy doing that Dean decided to start making their ammunition supply, creating a small pile of balls. They worked in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, the younger Winchester no-where to be seen. The only sound near them was the short hard breaths they were producing as they worked, until Cas sat back on his knees with a delighted sigh. Dean looked up to see Cas grinning proudly at his handiwork. “It is finished.” Cas smiled.

Dean nodded with agreement as the fort looked pretty good and strong. He approved. “Yeah man, it looks great.”

He’d barely gotten to finish his sentence when a snowball flew out of no-where and smacked into the defence. Cas’ eyes widened in surprise before his instincts kicked in and he ducked, just in time for another snow ball to hurl past exactly where he had been standing a moment before. 

Dean was also huddled behind the defence, and caught Cas’ eye. He raised a finger to his lips, signalling for Castiel to remain quiet. Slowly he raised himself to be able to peek over the shelter to spot where Sam was. Quick as a lightning bolt he fell down again, narrowly missing an incoming snowball. 

His lips parted in exertion as began to breathe heavily though his mouth, the blood beginning to pump around his body. The adrenaline was starting to kick in and the hunter Dean was began to emerge. 

Despite nearly having his head taken off by his brother’s attack, he’d managed to locate where the younger man had based himself, learning an important tactical advantage. He shuffled over to Cas and began to tell him the plan he was constructing in his head. 

The plan agreed with the two men began to get to work, as more snowballs flew overhead curtesy to Sam. Cas worked quickly and efficiently but at the same time taking care with each ball like it was personally precious to him. Dean, satisfied with the stockpile they’d built up grabbed a ball, darted up, aimed and fired at the enemy. 

The accurate aim nearly caught Sam unaware, but he darted behind a tree, using the clustered trees as a fort. Dean approved of the smart tactic for Sam – as he was working on his own it would have been nearly pointless trying to build a fort single handed, but instead used the environment to his advantage. Running behind different trees also made it hard to know which one to aim at, however Dean had always been more tactically proficient and knew that Sam would not have had Dean’s plan added into his equation. Something that Sam would kick himself over not thinking of later.

Dean rained a shower of snowballs in his brother’s direction whilst Cas worked. Step One of The Plan: Lull Sam into a sense of security. His brother would be so occupied in dealing with the threat in front, he would think that that is how the battle would go.

Step Two: Cas, now with a sizable amount of snowballs to hand, takes over from Dean’s position of firing, to continue to the attack on Sam.

Step Three: Dean would leave the fort and go right around, coming in behind Sam without him noticing, and after giving the signal Cas would leap from the fort and come straight towards Sam attacking his front whilst Dean attacked at the rear.

End Game: Sam on the ground covered in snow begging for mercy,

It wasn’t a bad plan if Dean said so himself. And it actually worked. It was over fast ending with Dean and Cas standing over a laughing Sam who had his arms raised in surrender. Snowflakes clung to the fabric of Cas’ coat from where snowballs had hit him in his frontal attack. He was flushed and a little out of breath. 

Dean strode over to Cas an enveloped him in a large hug, chuckling. “We did it.” 

It was as if they’d won an important battle, rather than a snowball fight. The Winchester’s laughter was infectious though and Cas smiled proudly as he hugged Dean back fiercely. The hug melted from celebrating comrades though to something different as it went on, neither letting go. 

An pointed cough from Sam, sparked movement in Dean with him pulling away from Castiel with red cheeks, though Cas wasn’t sure that they were from the cold. He coughed awkwardly before patting Castiel’s shoulder. “Uh, good job man.”

Cas stared at the hand on his shoulder with something akin to confusion. Why did Dean let go so abruptly? What was wrong? He mourned the loss of Dean’s warmth, feeling colder than he had before the embrace.

Sam huffed a quiet laugh from the ground, attracting Cas’ gaze and prompting Dean to drop his hand back to his side. He hauled himself from the ground, dusting the clinging snow from him where he could before straightening up. “Well, that was fun.” He grinned.

“What now?” Cas asked hunching into himself slightly. He crossed his arms across his chest in some effort to keep himself warm. 

Dean and Sam exchanged glances in that annoying sibling mind language they had. Sometimes Cas was almost convinced that they actually could talk in each other’s heads. It certainly seemed like it at times. 

Apparently having come to an agreement, they both turned to Cas wearing identical grins. It was Sam who spoke. “How do you feel about Snow Angels?”

Castiel glanced back and forth between to them in puzzlement. “As far as I am aware, there are no such things as Snow Angels. I have never heard of their order.”

The two men, well boys really in comparison to Cas, laughed. “No man,” Dean took over the talking, “It’s a thing. That humans do when it snows.” He glanced quickly at Sam. “It would probably be easier to show him.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. The two hunters stood up straight bracing themselves, before letting themselves fall backwards into the cold embrace of the snow. Then they began to move their limbs up and down in a sweeping motion. Castiel could only watch on in bewilderment as Sam and Dean did what Castiel could describe as rolling around in the snow.

Dean sat up grinning, but not moving from his spot. He reached forward, his hand managing to grasp hold of sleeve of Cas’ coat. He tugged on him, gesturing for Cas to now do what they had just done.

He laid himself in the numbing cold, and followed the brother’s movements, his arms and legs moving stiffly under Dean’s watchful eye. Satisfied Dean stopped him and got up from his spot, Sam following his lead. He offered a hand to help Cas up. Castiel accepted the hand, allowing himself to be pulled up and moved into position as Sam and Dean lined themselves up to look down at their handiwork. 

Castiel studied the shapes they’d created. He could see how they could be described as ‘Snow Angels’ as they were much like the angels that the old human paintings depicted. However it couldn’t stop Cas from pointing out the obvious. “Angels do not look like that.”

Sam and Dean laughed, a deep one coming straight from the belly. Dean swung an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, a warm body tucking him to his side. 

As Cas looked at his snow angel with Dean’s arm around his shoulder and with Sam standing at his other side, he thanked his Father for blessing him with this moment, for he was sure he’d never been as happy as he’d been in that instant.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean pulled the Impala into the predictably packed car park, carefully pulling into a tight space between a soccer Mom car and some god-awful Prius. He pulled the keys out of the ignition and angled the mirror out of reflex before turning to face Sam in the passenger seat and Cas, strapped in in the back. 

The newly-turned human wasn’t wrapped up as tightly as he was yesterday – his normal trench coat hunched over his shoulders, however the blue scarf from the day before was added to the ensemble. The air still held a chill, however the snow had ceased. Castiel though, after millennia of being unaffected by cold was still sensitive to the feeling overwhelming of it. 

“You guys know the rules right? Watch out for pick-pocketers, don’t engage with any guys dressed up as Santa and meet up in the food court at midday, alright?”

“And don’t take candy from strangers right?” Sam quipped, raising his eyebrows. 

Dean rolled his eyes and began to push open the car door. “Let’s blow this joint, gang.” 

The others followed his lead, and began to follow him towards the entrance of the mall, dodging cars cruising the lot, looking unsuccessfully for a space. Dean marched with the grim determination of man going to war – quite possibly an apt description for the shopping mall during the Christmas sales. Sam had his hands shoved in his pockets as walked, and Cas was glancing around curiously, not really paying much attention to where they were going. 

The boys pushed through the revolving doors to be hit with a blast of cheesy festive music blaring over the loud speakers, and the chatter of shoppers as they went on their way. It was still morning but already the place was packed with people trying to get the best bargain from their last minute Christmas shopping.

Dean turned to Sam and Cas again. “We’ve all got each other’s number if we need it?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the background noise.

Sam shouted his reply and began to wander away, deciding which shop he should go into first. Cas nodded solemnly in return, as if it was an important part of his day to confirm that he had Dean’s cell number. Dean glanced at Cas with a little concern. “Are you gonna be alright on your own?”

The look Cas gave Dean in response could almost be described as scathing. “I have existed since before the dawn of humanity. I think I can find my way around a shopping mall.”

Dean shrugged with a grin. “I dunno man, suburban moms can be pretty intimidating.” 

Cas gave Dean an exasperated look – an expression that was usually directed at him from Sam’s face, rather than Cas’. “I will be fine Dean.” Cas assured him.

Dean raised his hands up in surrender. “Your call. I’ll see you later man.” He backed away and watched as Cas hesitantly began to move into the sea of people, allowing himself to be swept away by the tide.

Dean turned away towards the bright lights of the shops and window displays, all shouting out ‘Buy me! Buy me!’ He had his own mission to focus on now; what to buy the two people he cared about most in the world.

Dean had faced down some of the most terrifying monsters from legend, been to hell, said fuck you to an Archangel and the Heavenly Host, perverted the course of destiny; He could deal with a little Christmas shopping.

First stop, Sam. Dean had known Sam all his life, so he found it relatively easy to figure out what he liked. Being a nerd, books usually. An antique bookshop would probably be the best bet. Perhaps some books on mythology or history. And maybe some more plaid. The guy seemed to have a never ending supply of it. A quick trip to a bookshop and a clothes shop later, Dean had Sam’s present. Done. Easy enough. 

Now it was time for Cas – now that’s a bit harder. What does one get an ancient being? What could they possibly want? 

Books? The guy already had universal knowledge. Jewellery? Too girly. Tapes? Cas already had an iPod, curtsey of Sam. Weapons? A gun? No, too impersonal. A knife? He already had his angel blade, but he didn’t have a nice set just for hunting. Perfect.

Dean made his way across the mall, to where he knew the weapons store was. 

Sitting behind the counter was an older looking guy with a stern frown. As Dean entered, the man grunted his way in acknowledgement and went back to reading his newspaper. It seemed he would be left to it. Just fine by Dean. 

He made his way past the gun displays, towards the back of the shop where he could see some knives hanging on the wall. Some larger ones were hanging up, with cases of smaller ones resting in cabinets beneath. 

Dean browsed through the cabinets quickly, deciding the ones on the wall were too big. What he wanted was something similar in size and shape to Ruby’s knife. He was beginning to lose hope, none of them were calling to him in the slightest – wondering if his companions were having any better luck gift-wise - when he noticed a little black box hidden in the corner.

Curiously, Dean picked it up and opened it. Inside was a silver knife, finished with an ivory handle. It was perfect. He picked up the box holding the knife and made his way over to the counter. He placed it down and stood as the man put his processed the product and it’s cost into the cash register. 

“Do you want an engraving on that? We do it for an extra ten bucks.” The guy asked, not looking up from where he was pressing buttons on the till.

“Huh?” Dean asked dumbly. He hadn't been paying attention, his thoughts wandering away towards Castiel and how he was doing.

The man spoke slowly, as if Dean was an idiot or slow, or both. He reminded Dean a little bit of Bobby. “ _Do you want an engraving?_ ”

An engraving? But what would Dean put on it? ‘From Dean’ seemed a little cheesy. And so did ‘Cas’. Inspiration suddenly hit. Dean smiled. “Sure.”

The guy looked at him weirdly, before deciding that his newspaper was more interesting than the weirdo in front of him. With one hand, he pushed forward a piece of paper and a pen.

“Write down what you want written there.” 

Dean grabbed the pen and began to write down what he wanted. If the guy didn’t think he was odd before, he was certainly going to now. Oh well, it didn’t really matter what he thought. Cas was gonna love it, and that’s all that mattered.

\---

Bags containing the presents in hand, a satisfied smile on his lips and another half an hour before he was due to meet everyone, Dean began to make his way to the food court. Maybe he could grab some pie whilst he waited.

He passed a group of carollers singing their hymns on his way. A group of people were watching them; a couple of parents with their children, a group of some elderly couples, and Cas. Dean diverted his course towards the food court, and walked over towards the Fallen Angel. 

The former angel was standing still, his gaze on the singers but mind seemingly elsewhere. A small pensive frown had settled on his lips, and his brows were furrowed, making his whole face seem etched with tension. He didn’t even notice Dean walk up to him.

“Hey Cas.”

Castiel turned his head away from the singers, eyes lingering on them for a moment before finding Dean’s. “Hello Dean.”

“You alright? You look a bit..” Dean made a hand gesture instead of trying pinpoint the emotion on Cas’ face, hoping that Cas would understand what he was trying to say.

“I am fine Dean. It’s just the choir. It reminds me of the singing of our Father’s praises back in Heaven.” Cas replied, turning back to the singers. This time his face was wistful with a hint of sadness.

“So the Heavenly Choir bit is literal then?” Dean asked quietly. 

Castiel’s voice held an element of nostalgia. “Yes. We used to sing together – it’s what connected us, what binded us together. It was beautiful. There are no words in your language that could comprehend the power and beauty of it. It was.. magnificent. I miss it, I suppose.” He trailed off.

“I’m sorry.” Dean said, placing a comforting hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Most of them were dicks, but I guess they were still family.”

Castiel turned back to Dean, those big sad eyes blinking at him. “Thank you. However I am simply grateful that I am around people whom I care about now.”

Dean’s whole stance softened, his lips curving in an imitation of a smile. He rubbed his thumb over the material of Cas’ coat, hoping the man would take some comfort from the contact. “You’re family now Cas. And me and Sam? We’ll be around as long as you need us to be.”

Cas opened his mouth to reply when Sam’s voice chirped up behind them.

“Hey guys, are you done..” He paused mid-sentence. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dean quickly stepped back, withdrawing his hand from Cas’ shoulder. He hadn’t realised how close they’d gotten without him noticing. He coughed awkwardly. A habit that seem to keep reoccurring. 

“Not at all. Er, yeah I’m done. Have you finished your shopping Cas?” Dean asked, refusing to make eye contact. Cas was staring at Dean curiously. In the background Sam rolled his eyes. His brother was truly an idiot and didn’t seem to be realising his undying love for Cas anytime soon, not even after yesterday. Sam was starting think he was going to have to intervene just so that he could have a peaceful Christmas. 

Castiel nodded at Dean and bent down to pick up the bags of shopping that were resting at his feet. “Shall we go to the food court now?”

Dean shook his head sending a fond grin in Cas’ direction. “Nah. Let’s go back to the bunker. Let’s go home.”


	4. Chapter 4

After they returned to the bunker, the boys went their separate ways taking all their gifts with them to their rooms to wrap them, using the paper they’d bought on their way out of the mall after Sam pointed out they didn’t have. 

Sam and Dean were a little out of practice in wrapping things up but managed to get everything wrapped without much hassle. However Castiel struggled more, using up nearly half a roll of paper before giving up and having to go find a tutorial online much to his embarrassment. Eventually he got the hang of it and out of all the presents Cas’ were probably wrapped the neatest. 

It only occurred them though once the presents had been wrapped, that they had no tree to place them under. They resolved to get a tree and decorate it the next day. 

The following morning, Dean and Cas left in the Impala to go and purchase a tree and Sam went to the random store rooms around the Bunker, in search of decorations. Choosing one at random, Sam walked in and flipped the switch by the door, a dull light crackling as began to light up after years of being unused. 

Piles of boxes, all different sizes in different states of ruin, were scattered around the room as if the boxes had just been chucked in there and forgotten about. So much for the Men of Letter’s famous organisation. 

Sam stepped forward into the room, and looked around. There were so many boxes, and he had no idea where to even start. It was going to be a long day. With a sigh, he pulled the box closest over to him, coughing as a cloud of dust erupted from the movement. He waved the particles away, clearing the air and inspected the box more closely. It was taped shut and a thin layer of dust covered it like a blanket. Some strands of spider’s web clung to corners, floating in an undetectable draught. 

Pulling out his knife from the pocket where he’d stored it, Sam began to cut carefully along the seam of the tape. With the tape cut, the box lid opened easily, allowing Sam to gain entrance to the contents. Quickly, he riffled through though soon realising that it was only junk in the box. He set the box done, shutting the lid and moved onto the box next to it. One down, about a billion more to go. 

He worked like this for hours, systematically going through the entire room, cursing Dean for suggesting that he stay at the Bunker. His legs cramped and back began to ache as he hunched over, going through every box without success, though occasionally finding things of interest.

He paused to catch his breath, stretch. He stood straight, pulling his arms over his head and letting his back click with a satisfying and audible crack. He pulled his cell phone out from his jeans, checking to see the time. Dean hadn’t texted or called either. They’d been gone for a couple of hours – what the hell were they doing? Sam wouldn’t accept anything other than they were finally getting their act together, but somehow he doubted that. The more likely story is that Dean got arrested for accidently stealing a tree or something as ridiculous as that. 

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, about to start back to his fruitless endeavour, however something made him pause mid-action. The air was still in a way it hadn’t been before. The room had been silent and still but this was somehow different, almost as if someone had hit the pause button. It was almost as if there was something there. It felt like there was someone watching him, and to complete the cliché, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

If Sam hadn’t been cursing Dean before, he certainly was now. ‘Stay at the bunker and look for decorations, it’ll be a good idea’. Apparently not so much. Now Sam was going to die in a fort of boxes and his body would never be found. Whilst he had his knife on him, it wasn’t a full proof plan. 

Taking a deep breath, for luck or courage Sam didn’t know, he whipped around, weapon in hand ready to defend himself only to be faced with nothing. There was literally no-one there, the space behind him empty and undisturbed by anything other than him.

But it didn’t make sense to Sam. He could still feel eyes on him yet there clearly was no threat. He slowly lowered his knife, the confusion evident on his face. He sighed, and shook his head. He must be losing it. That could be the only explanation. He had been searching through boxes by himself in a dark room and he was just freaking himself out unnecessarily. Not that he was freaked out or anything, but uh.. well maybe a little. Anyway, nothing would have the balls to try and attack a Winchester in his own home - well perhaps other than Crowley - right? Yeah, he wasn’t buying it either. 

Visibly shrugging it off, he turned back around to resume his search though with a little less vigour. After a while the feeling faded away, but it didn’t leave Sam’s thoughts. It just seemed _weird_ , to put it simply. 

It took another hour to finish off unpacking and searching through the rest of the boxes only to emerge from the empty handed. Well, that was just fantastic. That was hours of his life wasted, that he would never get back all for nothing. So if Dean and Cas did ever turn up with a tree then they’d have nothing to decorate it with, unless they went out again which Sam really didn’t fancy having to do. It was Christmas Eve and he wanted to be lying out on the sofa reading a book and relaxing, not hauling ass through shops in search for tinsel and baubles.

Sam felt more frustrated than when Dean had managed to get a virus on Sam’s laptop after using it for porn. As stupid as it would have sounded to Dean, Sam felt like it might have been a sign or something. After all this Christmas just seemed to be one issue after the other, first being snowed in and now the decorations, and where the hell was Dean?

Sam stood up, abandoning his search and began to make his way over to the door, side stepping through the boxes like a complicated game of Twister, carefully trying to not trip up. Muttering something about no good brothers and useless angels, he pulled out his phone again as he walked intending to call said no good brother to see if he needed a bail to be paid, when a box near the door caught his attention. 

It was sitting there inconspicuously, nothing very special about it. But it hadn’t been opened. It made Sam pause mid dial. He could have sworn it hadn’t been there earlier, and even if it had, how could he have missed it? Sam stepped closer to the box, giving it a considering look. With a shrug, he exchanged his phone for his knife so that he could slit it open. It was odd, as Sam opened it he realised there was no dust build up on it like most of the other boxes. 

Pulling the top open, Sam peered in half expecting something to jump out at him. Instead what he found was coils of tinsel, Christmas lights and a little collection of golden baubles among other bits and bobs. 

With a disbelieving laugh, he closed the flaps again and hauled the box into his arms balancing the weight against his chest. Had that box really been there the whole time, and he’d just missed it? Sam scoffed. Of course it had, and it would just be his luck to go through a hundred trillion boxes only for the last one to be the one he needed. 

He shuffled out of the door, manoeuvring out of the door so he could flick the light switch off, and then push the door shut with his elbow. He made his way to the main room, where they decided they were going to put the tree. That is, if they ever turned up with it.

Sam dumped the box onto the couch with slight relief. For a box so small it was a lot heavier than Sam could have guessed. He was about to contemplate calling Dean again, when a loud bang and a familiar voice spitting curse words startled him out of his thoughts. 

Ah, so that would finally be the Bunker’s resident star crossed lovers. Sam popped his head out into the doorway that lead to the entrance hall. A large tree was making it’s way down the staircase, two pairs of legs sticking out underneath it as it walked. Sam leaned against the archway, his arms folded across his chest as he watched on in amusement. 

The tree finally made it to the bottom and two heads popped out. Dean scowled at Sam when he spotted his younger sibling. “Thanks for the help, Princess Samantha.” However the effect was vastly diminished by the needles from the Christmas tree scattered in his hair. 

Sam chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know, you seemed to managing just fine.”

Dean opened his mouth to deliver some sort of bruising retort, but seemed to lack in finding the words. He shut his mouth with a huff, and turned to speak to Cas instead. “You ready to get this through to the lounge?”

Castiel nodded at Dean, choosing to concentrate on keeping the tree from slipping from his grasp. The two men shuffled into the lounge area, manoeuvring around furniture occasionally knocking something over and breaking it much to Sam’s dismay. When they’d reached the place where they wanted to place the tree, they began to hoist it up, to stand up straight. Dean and Cas struggled against its weight, Dean repeatedly rejecting Sam’s offer of help until Cas snapped at Dean and almost growled with frustration at Sam to help them.

Between the three of them, they managed to steady the tree, ready for decorating. They all stood back from the tree, surveying it as they tried to catch their breath back. 

Together, the three began to decorate the tree and bunker. Dean and Cas focused on the tree, Dean whistling Christmas tunes as he went. He showed Cas how to adorn the tree – which order the decorations should go on and the like. 

Sam wrapped tinsel around lamps and onto bookshelves in an attempt to make everywhere look a little more festive. In the background he could hear Dean and his angel arguing on whether or not they should put an angel or star on top of the tree. He regarded at his handiwork. It was an improvement, sure but it wasn’t Time Square by any means. They didn’t have anything else they could use to try and jazz it up anymore: Everything was being used on the tree. Silently he wished there was something he could do to improve it.

A voice from behind Sam, making him jump and Dean and Cas’ discussion to grinding holt. “Your wish is my command Sasquatch.”

A snap of fingers, and the bunker transformed into a winter wonderland. More elaborate tinsel and Christmas lighting furnished the fittings, candy canes littered the surfaces and paper snowflakes hung from the ceilings. To finish it off, an angel rested on top of the tree. Its face was pale and delicate, with startling blue eyes and a mop of black hair, and its body instead of being draped in a robe, was in a tan trench coat. It had black wings, extending out from its back. Sam swallowed a snigger at the miniature Castiel, and chose to look behind him. 

He knew the voice but Castiel beat him to the reveal of who it was.

“Gabriel?”

The pocket sized archangel was standing there in all his trickster glory, a devil may care attitude and killer smirk. 

Dean stood in front of Cas protectively, probably without realising what he was doing. “What are you doing here?” He snarled.

“It’s Christmas Deano! You’re supposed to spend it with family and friends. Though considering most of mine are dead or want me dead, I thought you guys were the next best thing.” Gabriel drawled, eyes flickering between the hunter and the fallen angel.

“Yeah, well we don’t want you here, so get out before I eject your scrawny ass from your meat suit.” 

Gabriel’s hand fluttered to his chest and he batted his eyes. “You’ve checked out my ass? My, Dean, you know how to make a girl blush.”

Sam snorted this time, and Gabriel glanced approvingly at him before locking eyes with Dean again. Dean opened his mouth but Cas’ hand on his arm made him pause. “Please Dean, let him stay. You get to spend Christmas with your brother. Let me spend it with mine. Even if he is as you say ‘a bag of dicks’.” 

Dean and Castiel did their staring thing, much to their company’s disgruntlement, before Dean sighed and conceded. “Fine. He can stay.”

Castiel smiled at Dean, making Dean’s angry features soften. “Thank you.”

“I can stay? Goodie!” Gabriel cooed, his hands clapping together in a way that would seem earnest on anyone who wasn’t Gabriel.

Even with Dean’s reluctant agreement, the atmosphere became awkward. Castiel and Sam were silent, unsure what to say, whilst Dean glared daggers at Gabriel. Gabriel was standing completely unaffected by it, if not a little amused.

Castiel jumped up trying ease the tension, his effort stilted by his lack of understanding to social queues. “I was researching online that hot chocolate is a drink that is traditional to drink during the cold months, so I made sure we had some. I also studied how to make it. Would anyone like one?” 

“Eh, sure, I’d love one. Thanks Cas.” Sam smiled gratefully as Cas’ attempt to help. 

Gabriel grinned at Castiel from where he stood beside Sam. “Sounds like my kind of Heaven lil bro.”

Dean stood up and quickly followed, muttering an excuse of making sure that Cas didn’t blow up the kitchen or something. Dean had barely even left the room before Gabriel turned to Sam, raising a trademark eyebrow. “Seriously?” Sam found it hard to read Gabriel which was frustrating for a man used to reading people like books, never usually quite knowing what was real and fake with him, but it looked like he was genuinely disbelieving that two people could be so clueless.

Sam smirked, shrugging his shoulders. He snorted, shaking his head softly, his hair falling down onto his face like a gentle caress. “You should try living with it. You don’t know the true meaning of torture until you have done.”

Gabriel shuffled closer to where Sam was sitting, turning sideways to completely face him and crossed his legs, looking disturbingly like a teenager girl looking for some gossip or a good bitch about someone. He snapped up a lollipop but used it to punctuate sentences rather than to eat. 

“I haven’t seen two people that clueless since Mulder and Skully.” 

“Yeah, well.” Sam shrugged helplessly. “They’ve been like that for five years. I don’t think it’s going to be changing any time soon.”

“Deano needs to man up and fess up that he’s got a hard on for my little bro.” Gabriel replied, his expression stuck somewhere between being amused about Dean’s situation and disgusted that Dean was stupidly in love with his favourite little brother.

Sam scoffed. “You have met my brother right? Dean ‘talking about your feelings is for chicks’ Winchester? Even if he did admit to himself he had feelings for Cas, he’d never admit it to Cas.”

“Maybe they just need a push in the right direction.” 

The statement seemed ominous. Sam might not have been able to read Gabriel all that well, but from the look in his eyes, Sam could guess that he was up to something. Sam wasn’t sure he wanted to know just what it was.

“Whatever it is, don’t.” Sam said with suspicious eyes.

Gabriel lounged back onto the sofa, kicking his feet up and resting his arms up against the back of it. He looked relaxed and smug, like a cat that had trapped its prey and was letting it run around thinking it could escape, before he ate it. It seemed Dean and Cas were the prey in this metaphor, a thought that made Sam want to shudder.

“I’m not going to do anything.” The unspoken ‘but they are’ was heard loud and clear.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam awoke for the second time that week to an angel banging on his door. This time though, Sam elected to ignore it and much to his relief he heard the frantic footsteps of Castiel leave his door and run down the corridor to Dean's door. Sam sighed in relief and turned over in his bed, stretching his stiff muscles and trying to get into a comfier position. He had nearly nodded off again when his door slammed open and something with the force of a hurricane and eagerness of a puppy jumped onto his bed, making the ageing springs creak in protest as it landed on Sam’s lap.

Sam let out a pained groan as sharp elbows jolted into places they should never jolt. The only thing that stopped him from being really irritated was that a moment later a loud groan and a shout of ‘Cas!’ echoed down the hallway from Dean’s room giving Sam a small feeling of satisfaction that he wasn’t the only one being harassed so early in the morning. But it also made Sam realise something. If Cas was in Dean’s room then that meant..

Sam glanced down at the age-old Archangel bundled on his lap who was positively vibrating with excitement and energy. “Gabriel!?”

“You need to get up Sammich, it’s Christmas!”

Sam thought about pointing out that he couldn’t get up whilst he was sitting on him but the thought was cut off as Gabriel shifted again, accidently rubbing against his crotch area. Sam froze, a light blush appearing on his cheeks against his will. Gabriel clocked his head sideways in confusion at Sam’s embarrassment before looking down and putting together the puzzle pieces. 

Had it been anyone else in the world they probably would have jumped away from Sam, apologies spilling from their mouths, never to talk about the incident again. But this was Gabriel and Gabriel wasn’t like a normal person in the slightest. 

He looked up at Sam, holding his gaze with a smirk. _Asshole_. Sam thought he’d get away with just a lewd comment but then Gabriel did something that Sam didn’t expect in the slightest: He rolled his hips, slowly and deliberately, his smirk only getting wider as Sam flopped backwards, from where he’d been sitting up, onto the cushions behind him with a groan. “Gabriel.”

Whether the groan was from pleasure of frustration, Sam didn’t know. It being Gabriel though, it was probably both.

Gabriel blinked at him with innocent eyes. “A Christmas present? For me?” Ah, there was the lecherous remark he’d been waiting for.

Sam propped himself up on his elbows to glare at Gabriel, opening his mouth to bite back some stinging retort when Cas shuffled past the open doorway with a reluctant Dean in tow.

Sam stared at them with wide eyes, tension lining his body as waited for Dean to turn around, for him to see what was going on in his room and then inevitably lecture Sam and attempt to murder Gabriel – something Sam suspected might ruin Christmas.

Luckily Dean didn’t turn around much to Sam’s relief, however as he passed he shouted at Sam to get up. Sam let out the breath he had been holding as his brother disappeared down the corridor, relaxing a little before he turned to look at Gabriel again. 

The angel at hand was staring quite intently at him. His face was mostly covered in shadows, the only light source being in the hallway behind him. The light reflected off the edges of his hair giving him a golden halo and his eyes glowing in a way that seemed unhuman. He’d never looked more like an angel until that moment.

Sam swallowed nervously and Gabriel’s eyes followed his Adam’s apple as it bopped up and down. He looked vaguely like he wanted to bite it. Were they having a moment? Is that was this was? Gabriel lifted a hand and rested it on Sam’s face. Sam’s breath got stuck his throat, his eyes questioning. 

Then he lifted his hand and patted Sam’s face with a grin before jumping off Sam and practically skipping away. “I think I’ll open it later.” He sing-songed as he disappeared out the door. Sam watched bewildered as he left. What the hell just happened?

\---

Sam walked into the bunker’s main area a few minutes later after sitting in his bed and willing his problem away. Dean and Cas were lounging on one of the sofas near the tree, carefully not touching each other probably curtesy of Dean. Gabriel was spread out on the other sofa, a candy cane hanging casually from his mouth. 

Sam shoved Gabriel’s feet off his side of the couch and sat down, only to have Gabriel plop his feet on his lap as got comfortable. Dean leaned forward in his seat and gestured towards the presents, looking bored though Sam could tell he was trying to play it cool. He was secretly very excited underneath his façade. And he called Sam a nerd. “Are we gonna get on with this or not?”

Castiel immediately got up and grabbed all the presents into his arms trying to balance them as he came back. He distributed the gifts between Dean, Sam and himself. He looked sadly at Gabriel. “We haven’t got you any gifts Gabriel. We didn’t know you were coming.”

Gabriel took the candy cane from his mouth to speak. “Being with loved ones is more than enough of a gift for me.” Dean snorted but Cas looked pleased though it looked like he was trying to hide it. It appeared he didn’t pick up on the sarcasm. 

They took turns to open their presents. Sam opened his first. Tearing open the wrapping paper from Dean’s present, it revealed two gifts wrapped together. On the bottom was a new plaid shirt. The material was soft and looked comfortable. Another one to add to his ever growing collection. On top of the shirt was a book; it looked to be an antique, perhaps a hundred years old, perhaps a hundred and fifty. Opening it, it revealed to be a copy of Sam’s namesake, Samuel Colt’s journal. Sam briefly flicked through it, his grin widening. “Thank you Dean – this is brilliant.”

Dean looked abashed but brushed it off. “Nah, it’s alright. Saw it and thought you’d like some nerdy shit so..”

Sam chuckled and moved his presents onto Gabriel’s knees. If Gabriel was going to use him as a foot stool then he could be Sam’s table. Sam then moved onto the present from Castiel. Ripping open the paper, it revealed an even older looking book than the one from before. Sam looked up at Castiel in question. 

Gabriel let out a whistle. “Going the whole nine yards there kiddo. That there is a pretty rare book on Angels. Got all sorts of gossip and secrets hidden in there.”

“It has lots of sigils in there that would be helpful and information you may find interesting.” Castiel informed Sam, ignoring Gabriel. 

Sam smiled. “Thanks Cas.”

Cas nodded graciously in acknowledgment. “You wanna go now Cas?” Dean asked. Eagerly Cas ripped into his presents, barely pausing to savour the moment. From Sam he received a plaid shirt too. 

“I thought you should be initiated into the Winchester family properly.” Sam explained with a laugh. 

“Thank you Sam. I love the thought.” Castiel replied. Cas moved onto the present from Dean next. He opened the wrapping to reveal a box. Castiel opened to box to reveal the contents and sucked in a breath. Dean shifted nervously beside him.

“Do you.. like it?” He asked. Cas looked up at Dean with wide eyes and a small watery smile.

“I love it Dean. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” He pulled the knife from its casing, his fingers sliding delicately over it in inspection. He held it in hand, testing its balance and feel. “It’s perfect.”

Gabriel sniggered at the couple who were too wrapped up in their profound staring to notice. Sam strained forward to try and read the writing at the hilt of knife. He recognised it to be some sort of Enochian but he wasn’t fluent enough in reading it yet to be able to understand it. – Castiel had been teaching him to read it but he was told he couldn’t even attempt to speak it since he didn’t have enough mouths and couldn’t even reach the pitch required to talk it. He turned to Gabriel to ask, and hoped he would give him a straight answer for once. “What does it say?”

Gabriel looked back at Sam, the corners of his mouth curled in amusement. “It’s Castiel’s name in Enochian. Did your brother just propose? Because this is totally the fucked-up emotionally stunted way he would.”

Sam snorted. It was true and he couldn’t argue with it. He might have even thought the same thing but that meant Dean had realised he was tits over ass in love Cas, and quite frankly Sam wouldn’t bet a lot of money on Dean having that epiphany. 

Castiel reverently put the knife down into its box and placed his presents out of the way. He turned expectantly to Dean who was the only one left to open his presents. Dean sighed as if it was such a hardship but began to tear into his gifts regardless. 

From Sam he got a mixed tape. Dean turned it over in his hands, as if simply just looking at it would reveal what it contained. “What’s on it?”

“Music from this century.” Sam grinned, looking pleased with himself. “All the songs you actually like but refuse to admit you do. Don’t worry Taylor Swift’s on there.”

Gabriel startled himself with a bark of laughter, completely unexpecting that. Dean, a Taylor Swift fan? That explained a lot. Dean grumbled from his seat, tossing the tape next to him but it was obvious he was actually quite content with his present.

Quickly, he moved onto Castiel’s present. Cas was displaying the same nerves as Dean had when he’d opened his present. With the paper gone, it exposed the gift inside. A silver ring, hung on a leather chain. On it were small engravings, something Sam also recognised to be Enochian.

Cas watched Dean apprehensively. “The engravings are for protection. Do you like it? It’s not too.. ‘girly’?”

Dean shook his head wordlessly as he turned it in hands.

“Well if your brother didn’t propose, mine definitely did.” Gabriel injected, breaking the silence. Dean put the ring in his pocket and rolled up a ball of wrapping paper before throwing it at Gabriel.

“Shut up Gabriel.” He looked back around at Cas with serious eyes. “It’s great. Thanks man.”

Castiel beamed back at him, pleased. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Dean stood up. “I’ll go start making Christmas dinner then. Sam, stay away from the kitchen. And you to Gabriel. If either of you fuck up my dinner you’re both spending the night in the dungeon.”

Gabriel waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Kinky.”

Castiel got up and began to follow Dean towards the kitchen. “I’ll assist you if that agreeable.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah that’s ‘agreeable’ Cas.”

They were both about to head under the door frame when Gabriel pointedly cleared his throat. Everyone glanced at him. “Ok,” Dean began, “I’ll bite. What?”

Gabriel pointed above their heads. “Not so fast lover boy.”

Everyone looked at where Gabriel was pointing and right enough above their heads a sprig of mistletoe was hanging from the door frame. Sam laughed. This must have been what Gabriel had been planning yesterday. 

Dean seemed to fight with himself for a moment before apparently coming to a decision. He pulled Castiel by his shirt, his hands knotting in the material and pressing his lips to Cas’. 

Sam smiled as Dean and Cas finally kissed after five years of unbearable staring, when Gabriel spoke up behind him. "Hey Sasquatch. Look up." He turned to look at Gabriel only to get a glimpse of the white berries of mistletoe before lips descended eagerly onto his own. Sam froze for a moment before reciprocating, smiling into the kiss. 

It might not of been the most ‘normal’ of Christmas’s but it was about as normal as it was going to get in the Winchester household. And Sam wouldn’t want it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it ladies and gents. This is longest thing i've ever written - it got a bit out of hand but it's finally finished. 
> 
> I might come back and revise and edit parts of it later in the future, and next Christmas i might write a bonus chapter (i have a brilliant idea for it) but for now it's over. Thanks for sticking around for the ride. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! And come and find me on tumblr at owlwithafringe. If you want to know my schedule for publishing future fics, then check out my page on my fanfiction on my tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and find me on Tumblr at [Owlwithafringe](http://owlwithafringe.tumblr.com/).


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